


If I Could Turn Back Time

by BTSBlossom



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Altered Timelines, Clint saves the day, Gen, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, a 5+1 fic, bad guys underestimate Clint, self-betaed, they shouldn't have done that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5482322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BTSBlossom/pseuds/BTSBlossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time has been altered. Things happen that shouldn't have happened, specifically the death of some very important people before they can change the world. Can time be fixed? Can these important people be saved? (Loki sure hopes so).</p><p>Based off of this prompt: 5 times an Avenger died before becoming a hero and the one who lived to become a hero in the dystopian world that results from the others death.<br/>Edit 7/26/16 - Major edits made to Tony's section, minor grammar and other edits made to everything else</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Premature Endings

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by myself so all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy!

**1\. Steve Rogers – Yellow Fever**

Steve feels a weight on his left hand, holding lightly so as not to irritate the pain in his wrist. He knows its Bucky even if he can’t see him. The fever’s left him so tired he can’t even open his eyes. He knows its Bucky though, knows the feel of his hand, knows his silent presence beside him. Steve wonder’s how Bucky got here. His best friend should be somewhere in Europe, on the front lines defending those who can’t quite defend themselves as he’s done for Steve his entire life.

Bucky got the message at boot camp a few days before his official deployment, it was from a friendly neighbor who had agreed to keep an eye on Steve while he was away. The message had said that the neighbor had found Steve passed out on the stoop running a high fever and had been admitted to the hospital. It didn’t look good. It had taken nearly a day of arguing and a few close calls to a dishonorable discharge before he’d been granted a few weeks leave.

Bucky notices the hitch in Steve’s breathing that signals he’s awake even if he doesn’t open his eyes. He murmurs soothing nothings and carefully runs his fingers through Steve’s limp hair just like Mrs. Roger’s used to. He starts to softly sing an old lullaby his own mother sang the few times he was sick, encouraging Steve back to sleep. The doctors already spoke to him this morning, things are looking bad. Really bad. He’s got maybe three days at most according to them.

Steve, the contradictory little punk, holds out for a full week. A full week before his heart, already week from earlier sicknesses, finally gives out. He manages to open his eyes in surprising lucidity a few moments before it happens. He looks right at Bucky, grips his hand as hard as possible and says just loud enough for his friend to hear, “I love you Buck.” Then he closes his eyes and lets out a soft exhale. Steve is gone and for the first time in his life, Bucky Barnes feels completely alone.

Two months later papers in the U.S. commemorate soldiers posthumously decorated. One reads: “When the 107th Infantry were ambushed by enemy forces Sargent James Buchanan Barnes (pictured above) lost his life protecting his fellow soldiers. By sacrificing himself to distract the enemy forces, Sargent Barnes provided enough time to allow for the strategic retreat of the rest of his squad who were able to make it to safety with only minor injuries. Sargent Barnes has been posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor and honorably buried in a plot in Arlington National Cemetery.

**2\. Natasha Romanoff – Deemed a Failure and Subsequently Terminated**

Natalia pants as she falls to the ground once again. She quickly pushes herself back up before one of her teachers can yell at her. From the corner of her eye she can see a beautiful woman with long blond hair, The Enchantress. If Natalia does as she says then she can be free from this confusing school of dance and violence. Natalia is distracted from her thoughts when Ms. Pautina, their main instructor, shouts for them to line up.

  
Today is an important day. Today the instructors will choose a select few to continue on in hopes of graduating to earn a spot in the Bolshoi Theatre. Natalia keeps her face blank, like she has been taught, even as her heart races and her breath shortens while she waits for her fate to be decided. Ms. Pautina makes her way slowly down the line of girls. When she gives the slightest shake of her head at a girl two men will step forward and escort the girl out of the room. It takes everything in Natalia not to hold her breath when Ms. Pautina, finally, makes it to her. The instructor looks her up and down and reviews a clipboard she has in her hand.  
Natalia feels her stomach drop out of her when Ms. Pautina shakes her head.

  
No that cannot be right. Natalia is good, she may not be the best but she still has potential. No! The Enchantress promised, but when Natalia looks the woman is nowhere to be seen. The two men approach her and before she has a chance to fight back there is sharp sting in her neck causing her to go limp so that they can drag her from the room. She wants to scream but being quiet is too ingrained at this point, no sound will make it past her lips.

  
She does scream when she is dragged into a different room and sees the bloodied bodies of the other failed girls. This doesn’t make sense, this is a dance academy. No, she held a gun in her hand last week and only three of her bullets were off mark. But she is a ballerina, she is going to be the best. No, she is a killer and she is going to be _the best._

  
But she will be nothing because she had been deemed a failure. Natalia is forced to her knees, her eyes on her fellow/former comrades. With a loud bang and a millisecond of pain, Natalia joins them fully on the floor, her unseeing eyes wide open.

  
**3\. Bruce Banner – Overexposure to Gamma Radiation**

Bruce checks his calculations one last time, makes sure the machine will give out the exact amount of gamma radiation that he needs before he takes his seat. He sits still as the lab assistants give him the serum and quickly move to the shielded room as Bruce activates the gamma radiation.

  
Bruce knows immediately that something’s wrong. Something just feels off but it’s too late to stop. The chair has mechanical manacles to hold him down in case of any involuntary movements but now they lock him in and stop him from saving himself. He goes over everything in his head trying to figure out what went wrong. He doesn’t know, everything should have worked perfectly. He and Betty had spent years working through everything. It had worked perfectly in the small computer simulations they’d run and in the smaller animal trials. Where had he messed up?

  
Bruce can feel as his blood begins to boil. Can just hear the whine of the machine as it starts to hit max output. His body starts to shut down, going into shock as he succumbs to the radiation. He’s sure by now that someone in the observation room knows something is wrong but the room will remain locked until the gamma machine finishes its cycle. Bruce turns his head just enough to see into the window of the observation room.

  
Bruce Banner’s last sight is of Betty Ross crying and screaming as she attempts to open the door to get to him.

  
**4\. Tony Stark – Kidnapping, Ransom Demands Not Met**

Tony’s walking back to his dorm from the library when it happens. It’s not the first time Tony’s been kidnapped, not by a long shot. This is the first time, however, since Jarvis passed away. Jarvis had always been the one to find him, had been since he was first taken when he was four years old. For the first time in years, Tony felt scared as a bag was pulled over his head and he was thrown in the back of an untraceable van.

  
He wondered what would happen now. His father was nearly as famous for not giving into ransom demands as he was for weapons manufacturing. Maybe they would ask Tony to build them something, the kidnappers from two years ago had wanted him to build them a kind of missile his father had been working on at the time. What was he going to do without Jarvis? Tony took a deep breath to calm his racing mind. Jarvis had taught him some self-defense moves and Tony was a genius, surely he could find a way out of this on his own.

Yeah, he was Tony Freaking Stark. He could totally save himself.

  
When they get to wherever they plan to hold him, they drag him out of the car and handcuff him to an old wooden chair. When they pull off the hood, Tony does his best to take a look around but all he can really discern is that he’s being held in an abandoned warehouse. How cliché. As if that’s not bad enough, they force a newspaper into his hands and take a picture of him. A needle is stuck in his neck and the world goes blurry. Time no longer makes sense.

  
Tony doesn’t know how long they keep him. He’s never lucid enough to come up with a plan of escape, to fully figure out their plan, to even eat the food they occasionally place in front of him. The drugs play havoc on his system. His body is wracked with shakes when he starts to come down only to feel like it’s on fire when they give him another injection. He begins to hallucinate. He tries to resist at first, tries to acknowledge that what he sees and hears isn’t real, tries to keep some semblance of sanity. This doesn’t last long. The best ones are when Jarvis appears, when his trusted caretaker speaks softly too him in that comforting and familiar voice, tells him everything will be alright. The worst ones are when he sees his father.

  
Two hours after Tony is taken from the MIT campus, Howard Stark receives a call informing him that his son has been kidnapped and will not be returned until he has shut down all weapons production. Howard openly laughs at their audacity and hangs up before the kidnapper has even finished. Two days later, a story shows up in the New York Times about Howard’s reaction. The story will be accompanied by a picture of 14 year old Tony Stark handcuffed to a wooden chair holding a newspaper with the date magnified. Howard still refuses to give into the demands. For every day that weapons production continues the paper receives a new picture with the request to publish it. After a full week Howard and Maria Stark are sent a small package that contains a severed finger. DNA analysis proves that it belongs to one Anthony Edward Stark. Howard immediately releases a statement that reiterates he will not be stopping production. Five days later, the police precinct closest to the mansion receive a letter that lists the address where to find the deceased body of Tony Stark. Stark Industries stock plummets with this final piece of news eventually causing Howard to step down, Stark Industries is renamed Stane Industries while Howard and his wife retreat into reclusiveness. Stane Industries will eventually partner with the New York Times and hold a memorial every year where the Anthony Edward Stark Scholarship for Engineering will be awarded.

 

**5\. Thor – Deemed Hostile, Lethal Shot Approved**

Thor leaves the Lady Jane and runs down the hill to where his hammer is. His borrowed clothes cling to him strangely with the rain, gaining weight as they soak up the water. He ignores it, however, his mind only focused on the retrieval of Mjolnir. He slips a bit in the mud but his years of training keeps him upright. He simply bowls over the first person that gets in his way. Most of his powers may reside in Mjolnir but he still has his strength and experience. Thor cannot help a quick smirk, these simple Midgardian men are nothing compared to the Prince of Asgard.

  
Out of the corner of his eye, Thor sees movement above him but before he can turn for a better look another combatant comes running at him and Thor has to duck the punch aimed for his face. Flipping another man over his shoulder Thor lets out a mighty roar. He is already thinking of how he will describe this battle to his friends, The Warriors Three and Lady Sif.

  
Thor has moved further towards the large crater, is right on the edges of it. He can see Mjolnir sitting on the ground waiting for him. Thor is just about to step down to retrieve what is rightfully his when there is a loud sound followed by pain blooming in the warrior’s stomach. It is nearly as bad as when Lady Darcy shot him with her lightning device. Thor falls, slipping over the edge of the crater and rolling down landing feet away from his hammer. With a strangled gasp, he attempts to reach for it, his fingers just grazing the leather of the handle. The loud crack sounds again, under the noise he thinks he can hear Lady Jane screaming, this time he feels pain in his chest just for a second before the world disappears. His hand falls to the ground with a small splash of mud.


	2. An Altered Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five people gone before their time. The world on a path it was never meant to follow. The only one who seems to be aware is Loki, God of Mischief and he is determined to fix it. Luckily he knows just the little bird to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is turning out way longer than I planned because I can't keep myself from including all the thoughts I have about this little world. This is why it is taking me literal years to write this. Plus real life keeps getting in the way.

**\+ 1 Clint Barton – The Survivor**

When Kate finally locates Clint, he’s practicing his trick shots in the basement firing range. She enters as silently as she can but the second she crosses the threshold Clint calls out, “What can I do for you Katie Cat?”

“Don’t call me that,” Kate calls back as she gives up her attempt at stealth and walks over to join him. She takes a moment to simply observe him, admiring his stance and being reluctantly impressed by the next shot he takes. He’s practicing with the experimental weapons they collected on their last raid. It looks like old Stane Tech that received some unauthorized upgrades sometime between Stane Industries still existing and the Great Coup. Watching Clint easily manipulate the outdated gun makes her wish she could have seen him Before. Clint’s told her, once when he was off his face drunk, that before the war he’d been the main attraction of a circus where he made impossible shots using something called a ‘bow and arrow’.

“Bishop.”

“There’s some nutjob here demanding to see you.”  Kate reports, focusing back on the here and now. “America tried getting rid of him but he’s being particularly insistent and keeps finding his way back in.” At Clint’s raised eyebrow, she gives a half shrug, “The Twins think he might be a mutant.”

Clint doesn’t say anything for a few moments, releases another few shots that all hit their targets perfectly.

“Wanda’s keeping an eye on him while Pietro’s checking the perimeter and defenses.” Kate pauses for a moment, considering if she should tell him but figures he’ll know if she keeps anything back. “…I stopped America from kicking into another dimension and throwing the nutjob through.”

“And why did you do that Katie Cat?”

“He called you Hawkeye.” Kate watches as Clint’s entire body tenses up, going impossibly still. She’s still not sure if it was a good idea to tell him but it’s too late now, the words are out there, he’ll react however he reacts. “I figured you’d want to see him.” She says as casually as she can, trying to keep her own body language relaxed. It still takes another silent, tense filled minute before Clint releases a long breath and slowly places the stolen gun down.

“Right then,” Clint lets out a short, high-pitched whistle. Lucky immediately trots over from where he was resting in the corner. Clint picks up the coat that Lucky’s dragging and pulls it on. “Lead the way Lieutenant Bishop.”

Kate rolls her eyes but gives a sharp “Yes, Sir.”

When they reach the doorway to the main room Clint stops a few minutes to take in the scene. Wanda stands at the head of the room, Pietro and America standing protectively on either side of her. A man Clint doesn’t recognize is sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by a swirling ring of sparking, red energy. He takes a moment to think of how proud he is of Wanda’s ever improving control. A quick glance up shows Peter hanging from the ceiling, like a human chandelier, ready to drop at a moment’s notice. Logan is standing sentry at the main entrance, his gruff voice the only sound in the room as he murmurs into a comm unit checking in on the others.

“What do you think?” Clint asks, unable to suppress a smirk when Kate jumps as Wade steps out of the shadows to join them.

“Honesty, not sure. The dude is definitely dangerous. A couple of the voices say we can trust him but the others say we need to be careful of tricks. We should at least hear what he has to say, if nothing else it should be pretty entertaining.”

“Helpful as ever Wilson.”

“You’re welcome Sir.” Wilson gave a cheeky salute before wondering over to bother Logan. Thanks to Wade’s bright ass red suit everyone was alerted to Clint’s location at the back entryway. He made quick eye-contact with everyone, settling last on the mystery man in the center of the room. There was something vaguely familiar about him, something that caused a freezing chill to run up his spine but he didn’t break his gaze as he casually made his way over to America and the twins. Kate quickly took position next to America while Lucky took his own protective stance in front of Wanda. Knowing the others in the room would keep him safe, Clint deliberately turned his back on the mystery man.

“Has he hurt anyone?” Kate hadn’t said anything but it never hurt to double check.

“No, Sir.” Wanda responded. She held up her right hand which was slowly moving to keep the energy swirling around their guest. “This is a more just-in-case measure.”

“Keep it going, you’re doing good.” He flashed her a quick smile which she returned. “Do we know how he got in?”

“Perimeter and inner defenses are still intact and working. Peter checked his surveillance systems and there’s no signs of the guy, he just pops up inside the main gate. ” America reports.

“Best guess is he is a mutant of some sort, possibly a teleporter.” Pietro pitches in.

 “So, what has he said that’s gotten him labeled as a nutjob?”

“This world is wrong.” It takes everything Clint has not to spin around when the man speaks, instead he calmly looks over his shoulder. The man doesn’t speak loudly but his voice manages to carry around the room clearly, his voice even and articulated. It makes Clint think of royalty. “Time has been altered and some very important people have died.”

“No shit.” Clint mutters to himself before finally turning himself around to face the man. The man stands up after finally getting Clint’s full attention. He stands with his back straight and his head held high, it doesn’t seem to be some sort of power play or false bravado but simply as if he doesn’t know any other way to stand. He’s tall and lanky, but Clint can make out muscle under the baggy clothes the man is wearing. Wade had said to look out for tricks and Clint is definitely on guard now. Mutant or not this man is unquestionably dangerous, a warrior in disguise, someone used to being underestimated until they go in for the kill shot. As the man gives him a small smile Clint has the sudden understanding that the man has been playing with them. That if he wanted, everyone in the room would be dead. He’d allowed himself to be captured and held as it would guarantee a meeting with Clint.

“Hello Agent Barton. Or is it Captain Barton? Lord Barton? King? Sire? I’m having a bit of trouble understanding the hierarchy here. Personally, I’ve always preferred Hawkeye.”

“Who are you?” Clint asks, casually laying his hand on the blaster at his hip. “How do you know that name?”

“You don’t remember me? I’m hurt my dear Hawk.” The man placed his hand over his chest in a dramatic fashion. “Then again, time has been altered, as I said, which means we haven’t had the chance to meet before now. Loki, Prince of Asgaurd at your service.” The man – Loki – bowed regally. When he rises again, his eyes seem to focus on Clint’s blaster before giving Clint a quick once over. “Where’s your bow?” He seemed truly mystified by the lack of weapon.

“Threw it away before the war. Not much an arrow can do against the advanced weaponry of a secret army or jacked up AI robots. It was a child’s toy and I had to grow up.” Clint shrugged while a deep frown marred Loki’s features. Loki stepped forward easily escaping Wanda’s cage as if it weren’t even there. Clint heard the girl’s sharp inhale but quickly motioned for her and the others to stand down.

“Tell me you do not really believe that. The bow is as much a part of you as your eyes or heart, not just some silly toy. You could fell an entire army with nothing more than a bow, a few arrows and your wit.”

“You seem pretty sure of that.”

“I’ve seen it.” Silence descended over the room. His voice held such conviction it was difficult not to believe him. He was wrong though, Clint hadn’t held a bow and arrow since he was a teen. Since his mentor tried to kill him. He definitely hadn’t wielded one against an entire army and won. “When I first met you, you were the best marksman in the world. One of the top secret agents. You toppled governments, destroyed armies, brought nations to their knees all with a bow and arrow in your hands.”

Loki was standing right in front of him now, barley a foot of space between him and Clint. His gaze was intense, “With _you_ at their side a man could take over the world.”

“…You say that, but I’ve got a feeling that when we tried it that didn’t quite work out.”

“You had a change of heart, met people you agreed with more than me.” Loki sniffed, looking away. With those words, the tension that had filled the room seemed to flood out of it. “There were no hard feelings _despite_ the fact you shot me with an exploding arrow…well at least on my side.”

“Right.”

“Does anyone else feel like we’ve gotten off topic here?” Wade asked loudly, looking around at the others in the room. “As much as I’m fascinated with this world conquering Clint Barton, seriously I would love to hear more about this exploding arrow business, I’m pretty sure there was some sort of mention about time alteration. Or was that just me? Yes? No? Peter what did –”

“Wade.” Clint barked.

“Shutting back up.” Wade made a zipping motion over his mask where his mouth would be. 

“As much as I hate to agree with the walking tomato, we have gotten a bit side tracked. Tell me, my dear Hawk, have you heard of an organization known as Hydra?”

Clint let out an undignified snort, “Of course I have. Everyone’s heard of that damned thing. It’s their fucking fault I’m running a half-baked resistance out of a god-damned abandoned mansion.”

“Is that so?” Clint raised an eyebrow at the guy. Playing along with whatever story was going on in his mind had seemed like the best idea when he first approached him. He was starting to regret that but maybe if they kept the game going he’d finally figure out what this guy wanted.

Clint motioned over to Logan, “Wolverine, history lesson time.”

“You serious?” The look from Clint was all the answer he needed. Logan grumbled as he walked over to the two men in the center of the room. “Right. So Hydra originally grew out of the science branch of the Nazi government during World War II. It was helmed by some crazy bastard named Johann Schmidt. He was killed by SSR Agent Peggy Carter, aka Miss Union Jack, when she self-sacrificingly crashed a plan carrying some high-tech bombs into the Arctic Ocean. Without their leader and the subsequent Allied Victory, Hydra went underground. Skip forward a few decades they popped back up around the turn of the century, this time headlined by insane scientist Arnim Zola. During their time underground the organization was festering and spreading like a bad infection and managed to deeply infiltrate different governments and their public and covert organizations. Zola launched an attack that nearly brought on World War III. However, what they didn’t expect was for some fucked up artificial intelligence program known as Ultron.

“Ultron was created by slightly less insane scientist Hank Pym as a first and last defense against outside threats. What no one saw coming was Ultron going rogue and uploading himself to a prototype android and launching his own ideas of world domination. Ultron didn’t destroy Hydra after their first attack which lead into a full scale war between Hydra and Ultron including nuclear weapons, untested advanced weaponry, and for all we know, actual goddamned magic attacks, which lands us in the hell hole that is the world we live in now. Hydra and Ultron have reached an unsteady truce because they’ve found a common enemy in us, the half-baked resistance.” Logan turned to Clint, a grimace on his face as if he was physically pained from having to say so much at one time. Clint nodded at him, dismissing the mutant back to his post at the main entryway.

Loki watched as Logan gladly retreated, then looked around at everyone in the room before landing back on Clint. “Is that what you call yourselves? The Resistance?”

“Fuck no. We don’t actually call ourselves anything. We just are what we are. ”

“The people have taken to calling us The Avengers!” Wade yelled over at them.

“Because if you can’t save the planet, you’re sure as hell going to avenge it?” Loki sounded as if he was quoting someone but Clint had no idea where the guy would have heard something like that before.

“Oh, I like that! We should make that our slogan! Can we make that our slogan? Hey boss – Mmph!”

“Thanks Pete.” Peter doesn’t say anything, just returns to his defensive position while Wade struggles with the webbing now stuck to his mask and muffling his speech. “So you got your history lesson. Want to finally reveal why you’re here?”

  
“Have you ever heard of a Steven Rogers?” Clint rolled his eyes at Loki’s dodge but shook his head, glancing at the others to see the same negative reaction. “Natasha Romanoff? Thor Odinson? Bruce Banner?”

  
“I’ve heard of him.” It was the first words Peter had spoken. They all looked up at where he hung upside down. “He was scientist before the War really got started. He was working for the US Army to develop some kind of serum to bolster soldiers, based off similar experiments done by the SSR during World War II. During the final test run, something went wrong. He died. I found the files buried in some of those Hydra hard-drives we collected last year.”

“Hmm…and what about Tony Stark?”

Logan’s grimace came back in full force at the name while everyone else seemed to take a sudden interest in the floor. Loki looked questioningly at Clint who had a grimace similar to Logan’s.

“Yeah, we all know Stark. I still remember seeing that first picture in the newspaper, not to mention when they found the body.” Clint waved at the younger members, “They’re a bit young for that but they still know it.”

“Hmm?”

“This used to be Stark Mansion.” Kate revealed.

“Tony Stark’s lab is still in the west wing.” Pietro spoke next.

“We have not touched it out of respect.” Wanda’s soft voice followed.

“Enough ghosts haunting the word as is, don’t need to stir up another one.” America adds.

“Stark’s a terrible tragedy, Banner fucked up working on a quite possibly Hydra project and the others were nobodies. What do they matter?” Clint directs back at Loki.

“ _Because they were not nobodies”_ Loki seemed taken aback by his own vehemence. With a deep breath he continued in his more even tone, “They were very important individuals. All of them. As much as it pains me to say it, the world is a terrible place without them in it.”

“What made them so special?” Kate asked.

“As I said, time has been altered. Before that they saved the world many times over. Stopped Hydra. Stopped Ultron. Stopped…me. They were heroes.”

“How exactly was time altered?” Wanda asked taking a step forward.

A dark look passed over Loki’s face; for the first time since their discussion had started he wouldn’t meet any of their eyes, choosing instead to look past them all.

“Some very bad men got hold of a very powerful weapon. It allowed them to travel through time. They went backwards and found each of these important people at their most vulnerable and killed them. Murdered them in such a way that they would never be caught, so that when they returned the world would be a very different place and they could become very powerful people without interference.”

“You think we can find this weapon, also go back in time and save these people instead.” Peter finally drops to the ground landing next to Wanda. “Otherwise, why tell us any of this? Why find us in the first place if you don’t think we can fix it somehow?”

“I know we’re the ‘Avengers’ or whatever but what makes you think we can fix _time_?” America asks, her disbelief nearly palpable.

“Because there was one other person those men went back to kill, and they survived.” Loki turned his intense gaze back onto Clint. “Survived and has apparently gone on to lead a revolutionary army.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Hold up a minute!” Clint threw his arms up in a surrendering gesture. “That wasn’t even my idea, I voted for Logan! Besides how do we even know anything you’ve said is true!?”

“They came after you when you were twelve.” Clint’s entire body tensed up. “He was known as the Swordsman and he was your mentor. He put you in the hospital after you caught him stealing from the circus where the two of you were employed. Your death was meant to look as if it was a result of the beating.”

The room was silent, everyone anxious to see how their leader would react to the words. Clint rarely talked about his life before the war, mostly he spoke about what the world was like before Hydra revealed itself. A few vague mentions of the circus were as personal as he got. Wade gave more detailed stories about their leader’s time as a mercenary, which is how the two met, but everything Wade said had to be taken with a grain of salt.

 “Pietro.” Clint took a step back from Loki, no longer meeting his gaze. “Get a room ready. It looks like we have a new recruit.”

“Sir?” “Excuse me?”

“I have some things I still need to take care of, can’t stand around all day chit-chatting. Wanda and Pietro will take care of you Mr. Loki.” Clint turned around walking back to the doorway he’d used earlier. “America, Wade back to your positions. Peter meet me in the lab in half an hour. Katie Cat with me.” 

Loki watched as the different members of the resistance quickly followed their orders, even Wilson who Loki had the… _pleasure_ of meeting a few times before. Watching Clint walk away, Loki is tempted to reach out to him, to stop him from leaving but he can’t. Not only will the witch cut him off at the first sign of his magic but Clint will likely take it as an attack, will be even more unwilling to trust him. Loki needs Clint’s trust, needs him to believe him, needs Clint to help him put things right. So instead Loki watches Clint’s back as he slowly disappears down a dark corridor.

A few hours later, Loki was left on his own (though he knows the witch is keeping an eye on him) and half-heartedly exploring the mansion that was, apparently, his new home. He’s made his way to the west wing pausing in front of a door. Nothing marks the door as special, nothing to separate it from the dozens of others in the hallway, nothing to catch his attention. He knows though.

 This is the door that leads to Stark’s lab.

Loki’s hand reaches out, hovers over the door handle. The temptation to enter is startling. Even if it is locked he knows it would be child’s play to open the door. No one would even be aware. He could block the witch’s sight. Enter the lab and…what? Stark is dead and gone. He was a child when he was last in this lab. It would contain nothing of use to him.

He snatches his hand away and turns on his heel determined to head back to his new room only to stop short at the sight of Clint. The man is standing a few feet away from him casually leaning against the wall. His gaze, however, is as cold and calculating as he’s ever seen it before. This is the trained assassin he commanded not the bleeding heart he took control of so long ago.

“Yes my dear Hawk?” Loki did his best to smile warmly at the other man. _Earn his trust_ on repeat in his mind.

Clint doesn’t answer him right away. Loki worries for a second that he’s angered him some way. Possibly from his interest in Stark’s lab? Loki is surprised when the marksman holds out a thin folder to him without a word. The god hesitates for a second before accepting the file, opening it under his heavy gaze. The first page has a photo attached to it of a very familiar face.

“I had Peter help me with some research.” Clint finally breaks his silence. “Steven Grant Rogers died from Yellow Fever. A common sickness during the time and unsurprising giving his health issues.”

Loki flips to the next page with another picture, still a familiar face but younger than he’s ever seen it. A child’s picture. “Natalia Romanova, aka Natasha Romanoff. She was a student at a ballet school except the school was a front for something called the Red Room. From what we could make out it was some sort of organization to train soviet spies. She disappears from all records after the age of thirteen. There’s a note in the school’s records that marks her as expelled.”

Another page another familiar picture, Loki understands the pattern.

“The next two we already knew about. Bruce Banner was working for the military and unwittingly working for Hydra. He was supposed to build a serum to enhance the traits of soldiers, a super soldier if you will. Banner thought the key to getting the serum to work was gamma radiation. The incident report Peter dug up states official cause of death as radiation poisoning from an overexposure to gamma rays. An addendum from a Dr. Ross states that while the machine was working properly it appeared there was a mistake with the injected serum. Ross wanted an investigation but the government shut the program down.”

Where the other pictures had been every day, candid snapshots Stark’s was different. A young boy strapped to a chair holding a newspaper.

“Anthony Stark, boy genius and heir apparent to the Stark Empire. He was taken from his college campus by unknown assailants. Held captive for around two weeks in an unknown location drugged out of his mind on an unknown substance. Cause of death was reported as cardiac arrest brought on by overdose of the unknown narcotic.”

Loki raises an eyebrow when there’s nothing else after the pages on Stark. “You’re missing one.” When Loki glances up, Clint is holding out a single photo.

An unexpected knot forms in the trickster’s throat at the sight of his brother’s photo. He’s been on Midgard long enough to know what an autopsy photo looks like.

“This one was a bit harder to find. John Doe, possibly a missing medical student known as Donald Blake but no official identification was ever made. A few years ago before the war, a foreign object fell from the sky and landed in the southwestern desert. By all accounts the object appeared to be a hammer but no matter what anyone did they couldn’t lift the object off the ground. A covert organization showed up and blocked off the giant ass crater the object created. A few nights later, John Doe shows up and barrels his way through their security and makes it to the edge of the crater before he was lethally shot. Covert organization means the death was covered up and with Hydra gearing up to reveal themselves they moved on. As far as I know the hammer is still there.

“I wasn’t sure that we’d found the right one but based off that look on your face I’m guessing that’s not the missing medical student. It’s your brother isn’t it? Thor?”

“I never said he was my brother.” Loki felt relief when his voice came out steady.

“You didn’t have to. Loki and Thor are pretty unique names, they tend to stick in the memory. There were a pair of brothers that traveled with the circus as roustabouts. They were from Norway, back when that country still existed, and one of their favorite things to do was tell these stories-myths from their homeland.” Clint glances down at the picture he is still holding. “My brother’s favorite ones always featured the mighty Thor with his trusty hammer. I’m guessing its Mjolnir sitting out in that desert still.”

 “That would be a good guess my Hawk. Now that you’ve found all of this,” Loki gesticulates with the folder “do you believe me?”

“This only proves that those people existed, not that what you’ve said is true. It does put a tally in the ‘Maybe Not Completely Insane’ column, so there’s that at least.” Clint begins to turn away, heading back towards the center of the mansion. He doesn’t stop or look back but he does speak again, warning, “I would head back to your room if I were you. The others won’t be happy if they find you snooping around this wing.”

Loki looks back at the closed lab door, the temptation to go in still there. Instead he grabs the photo of Thor off the nearby side table Clint had set it on and follows the assassin out the west wing. With his longer stride it is easy to catch up to Clint, matching his pace once he reaches his side. Clint doesn’t say anything and barely acknowledges his presence.

“I already had an idea of how they ended the others’ lives, what I am curious about is how you survived. Their plans were careful, they did their research and found all of you at your most vulnerable. The others have parished but here you stand before me as an accomplished, if reluctant, leader. Why?”

“Fuck if I know man.” Loki can tell from his tone that Clint doesn’t want to talk about it, still doesn’t believe most of what Loki’s saying. They walk in silence eventually making their way to the other end of the mansion. It isn’t until Clint begins to slow his pace that Loki realizes he’s been led back to his room. They stop in front of the closed door, Loki wants to say something but cannot think of what, a situation that has become frighteningly familiar whenever he’s been faced with the assassin. Clint turned to face him but he didn’t look at him, his eyes settling somewhere just over Loki’s right shoulder.

“His name was Buck Chisholm. He was a performer at the circus. Showed me the basics of archery actually…I trusted him. After Dusquene and Barney put me in the hospital he came to see me. I was so happy until I realized he was wearing scrubs. Ain’t no reason for him to be wearing scrubs if he’s there just to check on me.” Clint paused, took a deep breath steadying himself for the next part. “He had this bottle, it looked like some kind of medicine, and a syringe. Still not sure what it was but I knew it was bad and I had to make sure he didn’t use it…”

“What happened?”

Clint’s eyes finally met Loki’s. It was always a bit jarring to remember they were green and not a bright blue. “I killed him. I ran away from the hospital and in the opposite direction of the circus. Not that it mattered, it was long gone by then. Fast-forward a couple years I’m a gun for hire, skip another couple and the Great Coup blasts the world straight to hell and I’ve somehow been roped into dragging it back out. Still not quite sure how that happened.” Clint muttered the last part to himself. Loki had an idea on why that was the case but before he could mention it Clint was walking away again.

Loki didn’t follow this time, instead turning into his room as was clearly desired by his dear Hawk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who have come back to this - THANK YOU! Your comments and kudos have been at the back of my mind and are what keeps me from completely giving up on this story. Seriously, thank you!  
> To all of you who are reading this for the first time - THANK YOU! It warms my heart that you thought this was interesting enough to click on and kept reading to get to this point. 
> 
> I really hope all of you enjoy this! I'm doing my best to keep this to about three or four chapters and, fingers crossed, it won't take me another two years to update again.

**Author's Note:**

> Clint's section is partially written but I'm not sure if I really want to continue this. Let me know if you think I should. Whether you do or not, thanks for reading!
> 
> Edit 7/26/16 - I'm so sorry it's taking me forever to finish this. Promise I'm still working on it but I wrote myself into a fucking wall with Clint and have now scrapped nearly everything for him and am doing a complete rewrite of his section. I think I finally figured out how to get to the ending I want so hopefully I'll have the ending written and up in a week or two. Thanks to everyone who's kudos and/or left comments, I really appreciate it!


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